Chapter 1 HEARTBREAK

I looked into Talatu’s big round eyes as we stood in front of her father’s house on Tinna Street in the city of Jos and my heart bleed.

‘Don’t do this,’ I said. ‘Please, don’t do this.’

Talatu sighed and rolled her eyes in a way that says, you just don't get it, do you?

‘There is no point going over this again,’ she said. ‘It’s out of my hands. His parents have met mine and they have agreed to go ahead with the wedding. There is nothing I can do about it.’

‘But you love me,’ I said, my voice shaking. ‘Why do you want to marry him?’

‘You don’t have a job,’ Talatu said, her voice rising. ‘How many times do we have talk about this? It’s over two years and you keep telling me the same thing. How do we get married if you don’t have a job? How do we afford a wedding? And you know my parents’ stand on this: we can’t get married if none of us has a job. So don’t blame me—’

‘We are soul mates! We share the same birthdays, same genotype...and nobody can love you the way I do. You know that!’

Talatu sighed again and pushed the long braids falling from her head out of her face. ‘Face reality, Paul. None of us has a job; how can we raise a family? We both stay with our parents; do you want to marry me and keep me in your mother’s house? My father will not hear of it and neither will I. Not in this century.’

‘It’s not our fault,’ I said, my voice rising. ‘We both have good degrees...it’s the way this country is. But it’s a matter of time, we will get jobs.’

‘I can’t marry on hope. My father said the same thing. Besides, you know he is a civil servant all his life and cannot approve a marriage based on hope.’ She adjusted the braids again. ‘And I can’t marry without my parents’ blessings...I just can’t.’

I opened my mouth to counter that, but the words fell asleep before they got out of my throat. I felt the hands of fear—cold and gnawing—clutching my heart. A metallic taste had taken over my taste buds. 

‘Your parents want you to marry him because he is a doctor and he stays in London,’ I said at last. ‘Which parent wouldn’t?’

‘It’s not that—‘

‘They want a son-in-law who works abroad.’

‘Paul,—‘

 ‘I don’t blame them—’

‘Stop it!’ Talatu said. ‘I am thirty-one and my clock is ticking fast, in case you haven’t noticed. I told you the doctor said I have a fibroid and he said it’s because I don’t have babies. Gina and Joyce have two kids each but I have been waiting to get married for the past two years. And it’s still based on hope. I can’t keep living on hope when my time is running out. I can’t live on hope anymore; I just can’t.’

I looked at the other side of the road, not bearing to look at her face. I was sure her lips were curled and her face stony looking. Once upon a time those lips had offered smiles, laughter and encouraging words. Now their words left me drowning—with my stomach feeling squashed, and the metallic taste growing in my mouth. I wanted to sit, squat, and swear—all at the same time.

‘I will get a job,’ I whispered. ‘Just give me some time; I will get a job.’

Talatu chuckled. ‘When? In another year? In two? Do you have a date in mind?’

I turned my face away again and another silence echoed between us. Talatu’s eyes were on me—I could feel the glare in them—and I lacked the confidence to look back at her. Both of us knew I had no answer to her questions. When will it be? When do I get a job? I had come to the conclusion that getting a job for a graduate in country without a government connection is as difficult as winning a Nobel Prize. And with the private sector downsizing as fast as bullets coming out of an AK 47, it seemed graduates like Talatu and me will get jobs when the earth gives birth to a second moon.

‘I have to go,’ Talatu said. ‘My father will be home soon...’

‘I know,’ I said and my eyes met hers. ‘When can I see you?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said and threw more braids away from her eyes. ‘The engagement is a month from now...On the twenty-six...’

We stood in silence. The thought of not seeing her again send acids seeping into my stomach.

‘You have to go,’ Talatu said again. ‘If my father finds you here, he will call the cops. I don’t want you to get into more trouble—’

 ‘I will get a job,’ I whispered. ‘I will get a job if it means writing to all the companies in this country. I swear I will.’

Her eyes grew wider and I saw the surprise and solicitousness that came into them. Maybe she has never heard me speak with such vigor before; but it lasted just for that second and then the stern features on her face returned.

‘You have to go,’ she said. ‘I don’t want trouble. Dad and mom said you should never come to the house again. Good bye.’

She turned and opened the door leading into the house. I caught her arm and pulled her back.

She whirled around, her face set like a stone. ‘What?’

‘Talatu, wait for me,’ I said. ‘I will get a job. I swear I will; just wait awhile.’

She wrung her arm out of my hand and glared at me, the eyes hot with anger.

‘I will get a job,’ I insisted. ‘I will.’

She looked at me for a while longer and I cringed from the look of anger and pity on her face. She turned and opened the door again and her slim body swayed as if she was walking to the rhythm of a Robert Frost’s poem. She entered the house and closed the door, her eyes never meeting mine. I heard her footsteps walking away and I stood there watching the door as if it will open again.

I stood for a long while, until I saw her parent’s car coming around the street. I quickly walked away from the door and crossed the street, taking the road to British Junction. I saw the car parked at the driveway and Talatu’s dad and mom came out and walked to the house.

Talatu opened the door and they walked into the house. She looked to the left and then to the right, and then she closed the door.

I looked up toward the west; the sun had gone to sleep about an hour ago and the cold had come out to party with all the unfortunate souls still on the streets by this time. I lowered my eyes and walked faster, feeling the bite of the cold on my face and fingers. 

She is just under pressure, I thought. Once I get a job, she will forget him. She doesn’t love him. She doesn’t love him…

‘I will fight,’ I said out loud to the cold, uncaring air. ‘I will fight until I get her back.’

I walked on, avoiding the passing cars and dug my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket. ‘She doesn’t love him; it’s just the pressure; once I get a job, she will return to me. I will get a job soon.’

My pace increased with this resolved.